Birthday Surprise
by xtorchtiesx
Summary: After a wild night out Jack returns to the Hub, and is greeted by a familiar face... hints of John/Ianto, John/Jack, Jack, Ianto and Owen/Tosh. Set between 2x01 and 2x11: Chapter Five Just Up!
1. Chapter 1

My first piece of fan fiction, so please review, be kind etc. (I have already posted in other places, so haven't stolen it, my story).** But… Disclaimer:** I own nothing: not the characters, places, ideas, people, any guns, furniture or sick thoughts had in their heads. Basically, they're all thanks to the genius of Mr Russell T. Davies

* * *

Birthday Surprise…

A dark figure skulked into the Hub, bleary eyed. He looked like death. The man smiled, thinking of this humorous, yet ironic parallel he had subconsciously drawn. The man who looked like death, could not die. The previous night's events had caught up with Jack and he pondered something, which had troubled him since he had first discovered that sweet elixir of "drink". These people were able to clone, travel into space and create masterpieces, but yet they were not able to find a cure for the simple hangover. He recalled last night's antics; that rare occasion of a night out with his team and a real night out. Not one involving exploding aliens or sex gases, however fun those nights were… Jack returned to reality, as he made his way to his office, acknowledging the familiar figure that controlled the coffee machine with a nod.

Jack raised an eyebrow at the sight that greeted him. Masses of paperwork, some files and more paperwork cluttered his desk. Something was missing… A knowing smirk spread across his face, with the realisation of the missing piece. He knew it was early, but surely Ianto couldn't have forgotten? He left his office with a motive in mind: coffee.  
"Ianto, some coffee magic wouldn't go a miss…"  
The familiar figure that had inhabited the coffee area was gone, leaving a pool of coffee on the floor. Jack was worried. Leaving the safeness of his office, he ventured into the unknown.  
"Ianto…"

A thought sprung to mind, which made Jack turn back. He sprinted back to his office, to find the familiar figure seated in his chair with his gun being played with in the man's hands.  
"What, were you expecting someone else?" said the figure.  
"I thought I told you…"  
"I know what you told me…but do you think I could resist giving the birthday boy a present?"  
"Bit late don't you think?" pondered Jack, observing his surroundings, thinking of something he could use as a weapon…if it came down to it.  
"Oh, was that why you wanted the coffee? Had a wild night out to celebrate? I remember how you were without your coffee. Like an untamed beast. But I could say that about you in…"  
"All right," interrupted Jack, eager to stop the small talk. "Why are you really here?"

The figure rose from the chair, with a grin growing on his face. He pocketed Jack's gun, whilst retrieving his own, with skill and timing, so that he would not give Jack any chance of doing, well, anything he'd have fallen for before.  
"Remember that little thing I told you?" the figure said, toying with Jack.  
"Of course, it was a bit hard to forget." said Jack, resisting allowing his emotion to show.  
"Well, he's dying to meet you…so I thought, well family reunion!" laughed the fiendish figure.  
"You bas…" spat Jack.  
"Jack…Jack?" A voice shouted from downstairs. The owner of it headed over to his usual spot: the coffee machine. He noticed a note lying on top, addressed to him.  
"Iant…" began Jack, while the figure took advantage of this distraction and attached a wrist strap to Jack.

"This," whispered the figure, "gives you a one way ticket to, well you know who. Oh and don't worry, this wrist strap is a bit more complex than your excuse of one." Ianto headed up the stairs, confused and suspicious, as Jack leapt back in pain. "Yes, he warned that there may have been side effect," mused the figure, as Jack fell to the floor. "but this will take you directly to him, from right here in about, oh, I should say, a few moments. The wonders of future technology; being able to open a rift where and when you choose to." Ianto reached the top of the stairs and ran for Jack's office.  
"Ia…" Jack cried, with the last of his strength, as he began to disappear through the rift. The figure looked on, amused and with the sound of footsteps approaching, took his position next to the door.

Ianto sprinted in, but was surprised by the figure, who grabbed him and flung him violently against the wall. Ianto fell into a crumpled heap as Jack looked on helplessly. After he finished fading and had entered the rift, he could hear one thing, which terrified him, both for his sake and Ianto's.  
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of eye candy..." laughed the figure, as he looked down with both menace and interest and Ianto. Ianto looked up, cautiously, and realised a few things: the whole team was in trouble but right now he was in serious trouble. The figure smirked at the fear in Ianto's eyes and revelled in the power. Captain John Hart was back…


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for comments, favourites etc. **Disclaimer:** Nope, still dont own any of this...if i did i'd be having a captain sandwich with Ianto filling!

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Birthday Surprises: Part Two: A Welcome Return?

The younger man stared up at the predator before him. Having let the initial shock of their meeting pass (which all Ianto could recollect consisted of: "Oh hey, it's John…Only the guy who tried to kill us…Oh no what's he done to Ja…Ow…Okay, that's a wall…Where did Jack go…Eye candy… Oh, that's me…Uh oh…), he attempted to get up, but was greeted by a clean, new boot to his shoulder, inhibiting him from doing so.  
"No, no, no…" tutted the Captain. "You get up, when I tell you to."

Removing his boot from his prize, John fished into his pocket and retrieved a pair of handcuffs. Ianto glanced nervously up from them, to the look in the older man's eyes. You can tell a lot from eyes, and these eyes told a story that Ianto did not want to be a part of.  
"Okay, now you can get up." laughed the Captain, as he indulged in the control over another's life.  
On Ianto's rising, the Captain eyed him up and down, scrutinising every part of his body, focusing on some parts more than others. As his eyes returned to Ianto's, Ianto saw a look of heat in them, which he had only seen in one other man's eyes.  
"Turn around," commanded John, as Ianto obeyed. All he had to do was wait for an opportunity, a slip up and exploit it. Frustration grew inside. How could he have been so stupid, so gullible? What was John doing back and why was he toying with Ianto? What had happened to Jack? Why wasn't John worried, when Jack could return any minute? Unless... A voice woke him from his musings.  
"Mmmmm, he does have you well trained…" mused the voice, as Ianto's emotions got the better of him.  
"I could say the same about you," spat Ianto. "Running back here like his lap dog. Well things have changed. People change. He moved on, and you're still a time travelling whor…"

John didn't allow Ianto the privilege of finishing his sentence. He was on him at once, pushed him face first into the wall. Cold gun drawn, pointed it to the back of Ianto's head, his hot breath and fiery eyes screamed at Ianto.  
"Nice trick, eye candy, trying to make me jealous. But it won't work," teased John. Withdrawing his gun, he swiftly grabbed Ianto's hands and encased them in the handcuffs. Spinning his new toy around, John grabbed Ianto's neck in one hand, while drawing his gun in his other. "Remember the lift, eye candy," John said, clutching Ianto whilst stroking his face with the gun. "Well, do you?"  
"Yes," choked Ianto, staring at the madness in the monster's eyes.  
"And remember all the pain and suffering I caused, to you and your little team…" John whispered, as he loosened the grip on Ianto's neck and caressed his face slowly with the gun.  
"Yes, I do…" said Ianto cautiously.

"Well," started the Captain, in control and loving the power. He came temple to temple with Ianto, staring into his eyes. "I don't regret a second…" said the Captain, as a smile covered his face. "And now, I'm gonna do it all again. Yes you may look confused, I get that, but you see last time, I didn't get the job done. I tried to kill the girlie…didn't happen. Shot the boy…he didn't die. Tried to kill Jack…but now I have someone working on that. And as for you…well I could now very easily do what I wanted to before, bearing in mind your current situation," he grinned, moving his eyes from the handcuffs to Ianto's hips and back up. Ianto gulped, now fully comprehending the nickname and John's insinuation. "But I want to enjoy this…"  
Ianto stared in disbelief, as John spun him round, undid his handcuffs and stepped back, allowing Ianto to turn, while he motioned to the door with his gun.  
"What do I do now?" inquired Ianto, still very much aware of the gun.  
"Oh, I'd say go warn your little friends like last time."  
"Why are you doing this…" Ianto dared to ask.  
What the Captain said scared Ianto to his bones.  
"Because I can. Simple as that; call me maniacal or big headed or even sweet cheeks," John winked. "But I want my revenge to be perfect, sweet and fulfilling. So, I'm giving you a sporting chance…" He beckoned to the door once more and echoed the words Ianto wished he'd never hear again.  
"So do what you do best…run, Ianto Jones…"

* * *

Jack fell, spiralling downwards, lost in confusion and drowning in his thoughts. He fought with every fibre of his body, but to no avail. He had been through the rift before, an experience of calm, tranquillity and no pain, where he allowed himself to be taken. But this experience, from the moment he was pulled inside it, felt wrong. It felt alien. Jack had seen and experienced future technology before, but nothing to this extent of cruel and torturous extreme. The rift seemed to access his thoughts, apparently searching for something. Jack closed his eyes as his head filled with memories. Jack could do nothing but cry out and fall, till the rift decided his destination. Suddenly, when Jack's mind felt fit to burst, the unknown power found what it so desperately had sought. Instinctively, Jack's eyes burst open, enraged at this invasion of privacy. He hit out, reaching for something, anything, to grasp a hold to; to make this stop. Wild colours surrounded him, dancing to some unknown ritual. As he fought he was rewarded with insight. Voices echoed in his head, seemingly talking at him rather than directly to him. Just end this, that's enough… one warm, distant voice pleaded. I'll decide when it's enough…after all I do know what's best for him…returned another, colder voice. You don't know Jack… shouted another. Jack drifted in and out of consciousness, trying to focus on the words. Suddenly more bodiless pleads joined the confrontation as Jack's suspended voyage seemingly came to an abrupt end. The traveller landed in front of his captor. Forgetting where he was and the imminent danger that lay ahead, Jack surrendered his body to blissful oblivion.

With the last strength he had, Jack raised an eye to see a pair of muddy, worn boots greeting him. The stranger to Jack grabbed a hand full of Jack's hair, pulling him to his knees, much to the dismay of the echoing voices Jack had heard earlier. Vision and hearing impaired, bloodied and bruised from the experience, Jack chose to try and comprehend a few words before collapsing. The owner of them addressed him, with no sign of any emotion in his voice, spare one. Hatred. Having heard them, Jack became more coherent of his captor, as he fell into an unconscious relapse again. As Jack lay there, three words tormented his mind: "Nighty night brother…"


	3. Chapter 3

Again thanks for all reviews! Going to pimp out my other friends fiction, so check our profile to read Blood Ties and Kingdom Hearts! Seriously good, so please do :)

Apologies in advance, updating might be less frequent, like every 5-7 days, coz GCSE atm. Yay, not. Anyway on with the fiction...

Disclaimer: Don't own this program, characters any enabling circumstances etc. (NB. Ohh big words now, coz of english GCSE) and for those who speak latin:

"Illa qui scribo, Russelum Daviem habet. Hinc illae lacrimae." (Should be in english: "That which i write, Russel Davies has. Hence those tears." Probably isn't:P)

Birthday Surprises: Part 3

"So do what you do best…run, Ianto Jones…" John's words echoed in Ianto's ears, as he obeyed the new Captain's order. He'd run his whole life. That day, that terrible, fateful day at Torchwood One, he ran. What else could he do? Ever since, all courage had deserted him, and two feelings lingered. Regret and fear. Just a few moments ago, if he had just pulled up some courage, or something, maybe Jack wouldn't have vanished and maybe now he wouldn't be hating himself. But he hadn't. So he ran.

Pulling the loose trousers up as he went, he came to a crossroads and stopped. The normally well-dressed man stared down into the calm waters of a puddle, almost looking for an epiphany. Rain beat down on him till it was hard to distinguish between the rain drops and tears. Gazing around, he considered his situation. Having left his phone somewhere stupid, probably in a pair of trousers after his rendezvous with Jack following the party, he cursed this unusual forgetfulness. Eyes darting left to right, deciding which road to take, a thought sprang to mind. He had found himself at a proverbial crossroad. He could either go left, warn Tosh, right, warn Owen or straight to warn Gwen. _Stupid, stupid cliqued life_, he sighed. Should he follow his emotions or reason? Regret reared its ugly head as he veered off one way, doing what he was best at. Running.

He found himself justifying his choice with his instincts telling him a man like John (determined, wicked and hot…headed) would be on his tail soon. He concluded that Captain John wouldn't just be sitting there.

* * *

As John just sat there, he surveyed his new abode. He'd previously expressed his dislike of the décor, but he figured when this was over, he might just convert the place. He'd already decided he would give this sad, little planet a once over. He'd already made a list of places to go: Taj Mahal, New York, Croydon and Sutton. When he'd told this to his drinking buddy, who'd had the pleasure of his company before the morning's activities, the man just scoffed and mocked him._ Wasn't so funny when he was hanging upside down from that building_, chuckled John.

Although the 21st Century had nothing on the 35th, he had to admit, he'd grown to have feelings for this time. And the fact that Eye Candy was here, just made it better. This thought brought him back and he focused on the task at hand. Getting up, he checked the time. Five minutes since he let the boy go. Was that long enough? Seeing how well the morning went, he decided to give Eye Candy some more time and indulge himself in one of his favourite past times. Making a list. Very few people knew of this passion, as most he had told, laughed. And now were dead. He returned to Jack's office, not that he'd be needing it anymore... Getting what these people called a "writing utensil" and "paper" he began to write a list of things to do today:

1) Get first human. 2) Kill human. 3) Have a drink. 4) Kill other human. 5) Get annoying girlie who didn't die after paralysing lip gloss. 6) Destroy her life. 7) Have a drink. 8) Kill her. 9) Get Eye Candy. 10) Play with/ torture/ kill/ all of the above. 11) Get a poodle.

Happy with his list, he stuck it up on the wall of his new office. He stalked out of the hub: a smile on his face and a gun in his pocket.

* * *

A huge, royally decorated chair sat in the centre of a large room, where warm air greeted any visitor into this luxurious abode. A carpet made of the finest fur hugged the floor and the walls were decorated in rare art pieces. The steering wheel of some ship which had crashed early 20th Century was just one of the extravagant pieces which inhabited the room. Four screens, rumoured to be dated from the golden age of television, were positioned in front of the throne, and the body of a young man lay slumped in it. He stared at the four screens, allowing his gaze to intensify on one of them. His brother.

A beaten body lay in the corner of a small room, where cold air discouraged any caller from entering this hell. Cold cement swallowed up the floor and the walls were decked with chains. A knife rumoured to have belonged to Jack the Ripper was just one of the torturous instruments controlling any actions of the room. The body stirred and let out a disgruntled grunt, pulling at the chains trapping his wrists. With vague recollection of anything that had just happened, Jack slowly woke up.

* * *

"Open the door!!"  
A welsh man hammering on the door was not the way Gwen had imagined her Saturday morning to begin. Still suffering from the hangover she had obtained from the previous night's antics, she was feeling a bit delicate. On opening the door, she was face to face with a very wet, un-Ianto like Ianto.  
"Wow, bad hangover for you to, eh?" Gwen joked, holding her head.  
Ianto stormed in with three motives: get phone, call others and run away. Searching round for a phone in the mess that was Gwen's apartment, Ianto soon got annoyed by the disorder of the place.  
"Where's your phone?" he shouted at Gwen.  
"OW, don't shout at me." Gwen moaned, while Ianto searched in vain. "Bloody hell Yan, you could just have called what do you want, and say it slowly, please …"  
"Give. Me. Phone. Go. Get. Changed." Ianto said, as Gwen passed the phone to Ianto.  
"Are you coming back in…" a half naked Rhys started, but as he noticed Ianto, made his excuses and went off muttering "Bloody Torchwood…"  
"Ianto…what's going on" Gwen asked, now very much aware of the severity of the situation, by the look on Ianto's face.  
"Get a suitcase or get a gun; either way, we're leaving. Now."

* * *

John made his way leisurely up the stairs, with a spring in his step. Right now he was wondering whether Eye Candy had done the right thing, and run, after all John enjoyed a chase. But then again, Eye Candy enjoyed a challenge. He arrived at the door of his first victim, and a question troubled him. Quick and painless or slow and painful?

Hearing knocking on the door, the owner of the house made their way, dressed and ready to leave for another day of Torchwood. On answering, they were greeted by a familiar smirking man, brandishing a gun.  
"You're lucky. I'm feeling happy today." Captain John said, as he shot the first victim.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, sorry about the long delay: exams and revision getting the better of me. Anyway, here be more fan fiction…and as you can tell after torchwood finale, this is my interpretation of what if it had been how I imagined it, i.e. lots of Ianto and John. Happy Face :)

p.s. promise more of Jack next update.

p.p.s reviews are adored :)

**Disclaimer:** Nope, kein, nicht, nein! Torchwood ist nicht mein… Little rhyme for y'all! Basically anything written I don't own, characters, situations, SUVs etc. Sad face…:(

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Birthday Suprise: Part 4

A look of utter confusion covered John's face. His victim didn't recoil, didn't flinch; didn't even weep. Staring down at his chest and then back up to the man stood before him, Owen simply sighed. No fear was evident on his face, shock at best, maybe even disappointment. After a brief pause, John fired three more bullets, more out of desperation and intrigue than anything else. Yet Owen still did not die.

"Great…That's gonna leave a mark tomorrow," Owen remarked, heading to the bathroom to retrieve a first aid kit.  
"Can't die too?" muttered John, slinking to the kitchen to get a snack. Or drink, whichever was closer. On opening the cupboards and finding nothing, he raided the fridge and larder to no avail.  
"No," replied Owen, who sat calmly down on his sofa, opening the kit. "Already dead."  
"What did you die of, starvation?" John joked, turning back to face the dead man. Now it was his turn to look shocked. He marvelled at Owen's chest: a hole in the middle and four newly gaping holes, courtesy of him. He noticed for the first time that not only was it unnaturally pale, but it did not move inward or outward. As if no more sweet, human breath inhabited him…

"Isn't that necrophilia?" Owen mused, attracting John's attention away from his chest. He started to work on the new wounds, tidying them up best as possible. It was times like this he wished someone was with him, to take care of him, to fix him. Jack, Gwen, Tosh; even bloody Ianto would be fine. But they all seemed to have forgotten him; presumed he was okay: being dead and all. But he wasn't. And he hated (or as close to hate for a man who could not feel) them for not understanding. "Look mate, seeing as I am already dead, you can die and you're the one with the gun, I guess that leaves us at some sort of new, demented Mexican stand off."

"New? You wish! You obviously don't know your Haemovore history very well…" scoffed John, who plonked himself down on a seat. "So, what's your deal? What are you, some kind of…zombie who feeds off human brains and drinks their blood and…"  
Finishing off his tending to his injuries, Owen looked John dead (N.B. sorry bad pun) in the eye and interrupted him mid flow.

"Laugh it up, go on. How does it feel: laughing?" asked Owen. "I've forgotten. Love, hate, compassion: I don't feel them. The only thing I do feel… is envy. I envy you; all of you. I'm not "living". I'm just stuck: imperfect forever. You're not trapped like me. You can drink, eat, shag, enjoy life. Well all of that's gone for me." Owen said, now shouting out of frustration.

After a short time, John grinned annoyingly at him.  
"See, now I prefer my version. At least it would explain why you don't have any food or booze here." John mocked, observing the anger growing on the dead man's face. But then a thought came to him. A dead man could come in handy with his plans, not only for the little team, but the world (or at least Cardiff). "What so you're dead, and your friends don't try to help, in any way? Run you down? Shoot you?"  
"My only "friends" are Weevils." He gazed at John's expression, deciding clarity would help. "I'm kinda king of the Weevils, they bow down to me, obey me. You do remember them, don't you?"  
It was at that moment that John understood the endless possibilities of power he had in his hands.  
"What if I would be your friend?" John smiled, stroking the other man's leg.  
"Okay, that's definitely necrophilia!" Owen withdrew, regarding the Captain with a quizzical look.  
"No, eww, don't worry there's someone else I have my eye on…But no, what if I helped you: fixed you. If I could turn you mortal, would you help me?"  
"I'd do anything," gasped Owen. The thought of being normal, of shagging gave him new hope.  
"Hold up, dead dude: don't go promising things you cant fulfil." He walked towards Owen, pulling something out of his coat. "I could ask you to kill, but I want to have that pleasure today, so I'll just ask you to do some simple tasks. Stalking, beating and capturing is all in your vocabulary I presume?" he asked, handing a spare wrist strap to Owen, setting some co-ordinates. "This will be very simple. Simply follow the signal, capture the simpleton and simply throw them in a cell in the Hub. Simple enough, eh?"

Owen raised an eyebrow at the name of the target. John noticed the hesitation.  
"I do hope you're fine with the target?" John pushed the door open.  
"Oh, I'm more than fine…I was looking to vent some frustration anyway." Owen smiled menacingly.  
"Don't mark them too much…I want a turn." John teased.  
"Oh you can take my car, I don't mind walking, target's near anyway…" Owen said adjusting the strap and chucking the keys at John, taking in the puzzled expression of his face.  
Owen just smiled and replied:  
"Dead men don't drive cars."

* * *

Ianto and Gwen stood at the entrance to her home, guns in hand and game face on. Gwen had ordered Rhys to go to the pub, an order which he was far too keen to follow, leaving swiftly and so allowing Gwen and Ianto to discuss what had happened and to collect the many guns hidden in the apartment. One place in particular surprised Ianto.  
"You keep one in the broom cupboard?!" he exclaimed.  
"Oh don't worry," Gwen joked. "Everything behind this door is foreign to him, be it alien technology or the broom."  
The two came to a halt at Gwen's car. Gwen beckoned Ianto to get in but he remained outside it.  
"What are you waiting for, we've phoned Tosh and told her we're coming to get her. So get it!" Gwen called.  
"No, someone's got to warn Owen, he'll probably be at the Hub now…" Ianto guessed, his worried gaze meeting with Gwen's between the storm that flared between them.  
"We can't split up, it's suicide. You're coming with me…" Gwen started.

"No!" Ianto shouted. "Owen may be dead, but he's not invincible. He cant heal. Imagine what kind of twisted kick John could get from that. Let's think logically. You go get Tosh and call me with her mobile when you're done. I can check whether or not someone's in the Hub using the heat sensor in the computer in the Tourist Office. Give me your mobile, and if someone is there I'll call you and leave. If not, I'll go get weapons, call you and then we can go find Owen."  
"I'm not gonna change your mind, am I?" Gwen sighed, looking at the tea boy, standing there, soaked to the skin, with more respect and admiration now, at his control of the situation. If John had done those thing to her this morning…well she'd be less composed than Ianto appeared to be.  
"No," smiled Ianto, moving round the car to close Gwen's door. He watched as Gwen drove off into the distance, then turned, running back to where he had run from previously, rain beating down against him with every stride he took.

* * *

Ianto arrived and checked the computer in the tourist room, all the while keeping a trained eye on the door to the Hub. He hugged the gun in one hand, more for comfort than anything. Scanning the Hub, no heat sensors detected anybody present. He breathed a sigh of relief, heading down. He still held his gun steady as he stalked down the stairs.  
On entering the Hub, he immediately headed to Jack's office, in the vain hope that by some miracle he may be back or have left some clue to his disappearance. He tore down a badly scribbled note from a wall and half laughed, half feared its contents.

He span around, uncomfortable with his current surroundings. He sensed shadows dancing about, but ignored it, insisting it was just his imagination. He decided to go down to where he felt safer, felt better. The coffee machine. There was still a pool of coffee from the morning. Ianto made himself busy, starting to mop it up, when a reflection that wasn't him appeared in the murky mirror. Drawing his gun he spun.

"Owen you scared me…"  
The dead man stalked towards the tea boy, a smile that Ianto couldn't quite place plastered across his face. Owen walked across the puddle and pinned Ianto to the wall with one hand, catching the gun with the other. Ianto let out a surprised sound, much to Owen's delight.  
"Good…you should be."

* * *

Tosh lay there, cradling her head in hands, facing the wall, lying on the left hand side of the double bed. Alone. As always. She never understood what had made her buy the double. Maybe it was an urge. Maybe it was the judgemental sales assistant. Or maybe it was the hope that Owen may one day have shared it with her.

Getting up rather gingerly, she practically fell into the bathroom. Hangovers and Tosh did not go well together. She couldn't have drunk that much. Though on second thoughts, she pondered, with Jack, anything is possible. She splashed some cold water on her face and looked at her watch. Quarter to nine. She was late. But then again, Gwen had been on numerous occasions, and Jack couldn't scold her for being late once out of however many number of years she'd been with Torchwood. She could get dressed, go to work, but then she'd have to put up with another day of living a lie. She still looked at Owen in the same loving way, no matter how many times she told herself otherwise. And yet, even though he was dead, the way he looked at her was no different. A look of nothing. No emotion, no love, nothing.  
She returned to her bed, rubbing her eyes, and slumped down on it, ready for the sweet embrace of sleep. A few moments later, she was fully awake, eyes wide open, at the cold kiss of metal on her neck.  
"Toshiko Sato…" an American voice murmured, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gunshot…


	5. Chapter 5

Hiyo, sorry, sorry, sorry for not updating in ages! I know I get annoyed when I find a story I like and then isn't updated in like forever. But got to the point where i had the end figured out, but trying to get there is hard. Anyway, down atm, as friends are away KH gal and BT gal both off in Namibia plus GCSE results soon. AHHHH, I promise, as my mid year's resolution I will get chapters out more frequently than a month :P

Thanks for all the comments, please keep reviewing :) in reply to **White-Tigers-of-Darkness:** maybe Owen is taking the John route: hurting everything that is dear to him (his team). To **bbmcowgirl:** desperate men do desperate things and unfortunately, Ianto is probably going to be protagonist, as big Ianto fan here :P and in response to John getting his comeuppance of course he will, and anyone who agrees give me a HELL YEAH… soz obsessed with wwe atm :P. And fyi, this contains some…well quite a bit actually of swearing. So you have been warned.

Disclaimer: don't own them, wish I did, all belong to BBC and Mr Davies.

* * *

**Birthday Suprise: Part 5**

"I do hope you like my little collection, brother…"

Jack raised his head, staring into the darkness which engulfed him. Again he pulled at his wrists, struggling to get free of his restraints; but to no avail. He was well and truly trapped and at the mercy of his brother. His brother, who had been taken, snatched away from him. His brother who had surely been tortured and moulded into how his captors wanted. His brother who had had the innocence of youth beaten out of him. Surveying his surroundings, Jack noted a few things:

1.He was in a very small room.

2.It had a "collection" very much resembling all the articles of weaponry at the National Museum of Violence, back in the Boeshane Peninsula.

3.That currently his company consisted of his vengeful brother Gray and Mr Pointy, whom Jack would probably be acquainted to later.

4.That he was in deep shit.

"Gray…" Jack tried to croak out.

"Oh, don't talk," Gray sneered. "I doubt you'd have anything worth saying. It's funny…when you've been kept in the dark for endless years, you tend to pick up on even the slightest things. At first when I was captured, I was helpless, but I had hope. My eyes would dart about the place, trying to find a way out; you see, I was assessing my surroundings…much like you're doing now. But after a couple of weeks, I became more intuitive with the place I was in and the people who surrounded me. Any stimulus and I would try to work it to my advantage. Of course, in each of the first ten times I tried to escape, my captors noticed a change in my method. They had seen that I had become more calculated, more confident. You see, I was not a desperate, caged animal anymore. I was not a machine, ready to fall in line to whatever my masters desired. I was free…not physically, but mentally."

He crouched down in front of Jack staring into his eyes.

"I was free," he continued. "Because I gave up believing in you. I gave up my hope. And that meant I could focus on me. I studied everything my masters did. How they fought…how the tortured. I had a new hero, someone I aspired to be like. And they were the antithesis of you, and everything you taught me."

Gray crouched, stock still, in front of Jack, just staring for what seemed like an eternity. His captive neither shrank away or stared at him with hate. There was a different look in his eyes, one that Gray hadn't seen or felt in a long time. Regret and love filled his brother's eyes. Gray almost pitied him: showing these emotions so easily. Wearing his heart on his sleeve. The 21st century had contaminated his brother and inevitably these emotions would be his and humanities downfall. Suddenly coming out of this trance like state, Gray stood up and strolled over casually to the table. Jack stared at the shadow slinking around the room, as it grasped at something on the table before turning around with Mr Pointy in hand. Even in the darkness, Jack could make out a slowly forming twist of the mouth, into something which resembled a smile.

" Now," Gray said walking over, eyes never leaving his prey. "we're going to play a little game…"

* * *

"Chief, we have reports of a gun being discharged in residential, central Cardiff."

"Dispatch a team ASAP."

"Sir," a male welsh voice cracked through on the radio. "We are in the vicinity of said gun shot. Should we proceed alone?"

"Proceed with caution, over."

"Ten-four, over and out."

* * *

"Get the hell away from her!"

John Hart turned around, gun still pointed at Toshiko, to find a very angry welsh woman pointing a very large gun at him. The gun was smoking and from the fact that Tosh was still breathing and there was a hole in the wall a couple of inches from his head, he concluded that this woman was quicker on the draw, than even he. Not that he'd ever admit that.

"Gwen Cooper; long time no see. How 'bout a kiss, for old time sake?" he joked.

"I'm not going to tell you twice. Put down the gun and let her go" insisted Gwen.

"Well…" John pretended to consider this. "no."

"Look here _Captain,_" Gwen took a cautious step towards the bed. "I'm not sure if you're slow or just plain dumb. Because the way I see it there are five members of Torchwood, all very willing and capable of kicking your arse, and one of you."

"Oh, well when you put it like that," John considered, picking himself up off the bed, now holding Tosh by the waist and the gun still directed at her neck. "I guess there's no way out for me. Oh how did I ever think I could outsmart all of you? You with your…wait what is it you have? Oh yeah, incompetents."

By this point, Gwen was quite infuriated with this sarcastic, trigger happy lunatic. Toshiko all the while, was trying to remain perfectly calm and wait for an opportunity to try and assist Gwen.

"You see, I'm not sure if you're just dumb or…no wait, that was right," John smirked as he manoeuvred Tosh towards the door. "But here is my perception of the current situation. You said that there are five members of you, however, hmm…well let's recalculate. One of you is being held hostage by me," he tapped Toshiko playfully on the head. "So that makes four; one of you is stuck in another time, so that makes three; one of you has just joined my side, so I believe that would make it two for you and two for me…oh and your other little comrade, Eye Candy, should be incapacitated as we speak. So I would say that I have some leverage in this situation."

To emphasize this, he pushed Tosh against the door frame, repositioning the gun at the back of her head. Unfortunately, for him, he had effectively lost his leverage. With no human shield protecting him, Gwen had a clear shot at his shoulder and within seconds, he had dropped the gun and was shouting profanities in several tongues. Leaning against the adjacent doorframe, John clutched the wound as Toshiko ran over to Gwen, who embraced her in a brief hug. John took this moment to start fiddling with his wrist strap, as all of them were shocked to hear the sound of a door being kicked down. Of course, in case you can't tell, this was where things got complicated.

"Freeze, you rotten…GWEN!?" shouted an armoured policeman. John looked back between Gwen and the pleasant surprise who had just walked, well, tumbled in. The familiarity of the two was obvious, even to someone just shot in the shoulder.

"ANDY…WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU…" Gwen started, lowering her weapon, but was then interrupted by John's decision to change the rules of the game. Grabbing PC Pleasant Surprise, he pressed a series of buttons on his wrist strap and was gone in a matter of seconds.

"SHIT!" Gwen muttered as she grabbed Tosh's phone. "I can't believe he would do that, WHY would he do that Tosh? When I get my hands on that bloody ex flame of Jack's I'm going to stick that bloody bloody wrist strap all the way up his…"

"Gwen…"

"What Tosh…"Gwen turned round to find Tosh with her hands above her head and four large policemen pointing their guns at her head.

"Shit…"

* * *

Owen stood at the coffee machine, looking at it with what can only be described as complete and utter confusion.

"How on earth, do you work this thing?" he shouted over to Ianto. "Oh come on, I know your awake, buddy. Being dead and all, you tend to notice even the slightest change in others breathing and by my reckoning, you've been awake about five minutes."

He stalked over to Ianto, who was confined to his normal office chair, by make shift bonds of rope. Though quite why there was rope lying around the Hub, Ianto thought as he struggled at the bonds, was quite beyond him. However all this was far too reminiscent of that hellish day in the countryside. Not that he would show it.

"Five minutes, 27 seconds actually." Ianto muttered. All that time at the other Torchwood had taught him a lot. Most of it bad now, by Jack's books but one part he could use. Never showing his emotions; keeping that door closed.

"Always a retort isn't there coffee boy?"

"What's he done to you…why are acting like this?" Ianto implored.

"He hasn't done anything to me…yet. I'm still broken, but he can fix me." Owen said, turning away.

"Oh yeah, and you're going to believe a psycho like hi…" Owen spun around and punched Ianto square in the jaw.

"Don't you dare talk like that," Owen hissed now right in Ianto's face. "He can help me."

"How can he help you, when all he cares about is himself?" Ianto whispered. "Face it Owen, no-one can help you," Owen raised his hand again, channelling rage through his eyes. "he is giving you false hope."

"Well at least it's something."

"Owen, you know we have done everything that we can to help…"

"Oh, and what good that did. Last time your precious captain helped, I ended up like this!! What i'm doing is revenge!" He threw open his shirt to show the numerous bullet holes.

"Owen…" Ianto paused, looking with care and worry. "Did he shoot you…four times?"

"What do you care?" Owen said bitterly, turning away.

"Owen," Ianto grabbed his hand, even though it caused him pain through the bonds. "Of course we care. We are a team. Please look into your heart, and find some kind of humanity. You are better than this. Where's the old Owen? The Owen who tricked me into getting striped paint on the first day. The Owen who helped me and looked after the team when Jack was gone. Please Owen…don't do this."

Owen stared down at the beaten tea boy. The loyal kid. He wasn't much younger than Owen, himself. Though he'd never admit it, since his death, he seemed to like Ianto more, as the others seemed to find his condition…uncomforting. He reached for the bonds slowly, as Ianto smiled encouragingly.

"Bloody hell! How did you do that…Ianto…what kind of spooky doo shit is this?" Andy appeared out of nowhere to the right of Ianto and Owen. Unfortunately, he was merely an appetizer for the main course, if you will, as when Andy fell to the ground unconscious, John appeared behind him. Staring at Owen's hands lingering on the bonds, he stared from Ianto to Owen.

"You," he pointed to Owen. "Secure this unfortunate…interruption in the vaults. As you may have noticed, I have been shot, so if you could do that swiftly and then get your ass back up here to get this out of my body. So, metaphorically and physically… get the lead out!"

Owen hurried off, looking at Ianto, almost apologetically. John smirked at his little joke.

"As for you," he said, stroking the bruises. Ianto tried to turn, but Hart grabbed his hair and was suddenly right up in his face. "After I've got this pain out, you and me are going to have some…fun. In the mean time…Stop. Trying. To. Turn. My. New. Toy. Against. Me." Hart said emphasizing every word with a slap to his face, leaving Ianto reeling. He turned and headed to the sick bay.

"Please, just stop this." Ianto pleaded breathily.

"But why," Hart stopped and stared back at Ianto. "When it's so much fun?" he said, laughing as he went down the stairs.


End file.
